


In the 25th Hour

by Jenthetrulysly



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Obliviousness, Physical Disability, Psychological Drama, Recovery, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenthetrulysly/pseuds/Jenthetrulysly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a near fatal car crash, Steve and Danny must struggle to get their lives back on track as they deal with the longer term consequences of their injuries. It's a slow process, but thankfully they have each other.</p><p>This is the slash one, folks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"This is Williams to Central Dispatch. Do you copy?"

"This is Central Dispatch, go ahead."

"Requesting road block on the Kalanianaole Highway towards Hanauma Bay. In pursuit of a blue Jeep with license plate MD-407. The suspect is armed and dangerous; repeat, the suspect is armed and extremely dangerous."

"Request for road block approved. Stand by for further information."

With that, the ex-Jersey cop threw the radio mouthpiece back onto its holder and turned to look at the driver briefly before squinting into the afternoon sun. McGarrett grasped the steering wheel tightly with both hands as he took a tight corner and stepped on the gas pedal. He kept a tight trail on the blue car as it weaved in between the sparse traffic at a dangerous speed, leaving skid marks on the road from the burnt rubber.

McGarrett gnashed his teeth and concentrated on trying to close the gap between them. His heart was pounding fiercely and his hands were slick with sweat, slipping and sliding on the thin arm of the steering wheel. Adrenaline surged through his veins as the blood whistled past his ears. The speedometer said they were going at 100 miles per hour. At speeds like that steering accuracy was heavily compromised and the Commander had to be careful otherwise they could lose more than just Fontaine out here.

Shaking his head he quashed that line of thinking to maintain his focus. There was no way he was going to let Fontaine get away again. Five-O had put more than 100 man-hours into getting the perp and now when the net was closing in on him Fontaine had sensed it and taken off like a bat out of hell with all the blood money he could fit in an attaché case. If they could catch him red-handed like this then the charge of murder one to stick.

"Woah! Slow down you crazy lunatic!" Danny yelled as he was shoved against the window when the lead detective sped up and abruptly changed lanes. The tires in the Camaro squealed as he pressed the gas pedal to the floor and the passenger was pressed back into his seat as they literally flew at more than 150 miles per hour. "You're going to get us both killed!"

Ignoring his partner's protests, they continued their pursuit and weaved in and out between the light traffic. The scenery around them passed in a blur as the wind whipped ferociously. The Camaro had just passed the spot where the Lunalilo Highway became the Kalanianaole Highway at Mau'Umae Nature Park.

"That road block better be in place." Steve growled as he twisted the steering wheel viciously to get around another car. The smell of burning rubber was very strong by now.

A crest on the road appeared before them and Steve ground his teeth sorely wishing that the car had a manual transmission. The multiple horsepower engine lagged just a little at it climbed the steep slope. He took his foot off the gas pedal slightly to depress it swiftly again as the engine roared and surged upwards, peaking over the crest.

"Brakes, brakes!" Was all Danny managed to say before the car screeched as McGarrett took his foot off the gas and stomped hard on the brakes. As soon as they went over the crest the brown Jeep's taillights were flaring as Fontaine attempted to stop before he reached the road spikes. A deafening screech filled the air as Fontaine tried to stop but it was too late; he went over the spikes and his tires were blown. The car spun wildly out of control before the door on the driver's side flung open and their crook jumped out of the car onto the grassy embankment before uniformed HPD officers were on him, pressing him to the ground and cuffing him. Fontaine escaped just in time before the car slammed into the entrance gates to the Hanauma Bay Nature Reserve and burst into flames.

Danny could only watch in horror as the needle on the speedometer moved further to the right. Even though Steve had pushed the brake all the way in the momentum of the downwards slope caused the Camaro to go faster and get too close for comfort; at that stage Danny had grabbed onto the side of the car to steady himself. The speedometer indicated that they were still going at about 60 miles per hour.

In a last ditch effort to get the car to slow down and avoid impending death the former Navy SEAL seized the handbrake and put all his strength into pulling it up. The car lurched forward violently but slowed down. Danny had raised his hands over his heads in an effort to protect himself from impact as they slammed into the back of the blue Jeep with a loud sickening crunch. The inside began to fill with brown smoke and Danny thought he could smell gasoline. The glass windscreen shattered, showering them all with tiny shards as the metal twisted and folded. The front of the car burst into flames as fierce heat engulfed them.

Fumbling for his seatbelt, Danny tried to ignore the pain that blossomed on various parts of his body. "Get out! OUT!" The seat belt slid out and he managed to climb out of the car shakily before running to the driver's side to fling the door open and fumble with Steve's seatbelt. His hands were badly shaking and he ignored the blood on them as well as he pulled an unconscious Steve out of the wreck onto the grass, before collapsing onto the bitumen of the road outside. He could hear footsteps approaching and felt a pair of strong arms lift him off of McGarrett.

His last thought was  _'I'm glad that we came out of that with our lives. Steve will be happy that we got Fontaine…'_ before he succumbed to the darkness that engulfed him.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next few days, Danny rested in his room alternatively dozing from the potent painkillers they had given him to numb the pain. The respite was short-lived and unwarranted though, because every time he closed his eyes the events on that fateful afternoon would replay themselves the same way a broken record would. He was powerless to stop them and could only watch in horror and feel everything in excruciating detail as the Camaro slammed into the back of that Cadillac fireball and the acrid orange smoke began to fill the car. He would remember Steve’s slack face and the way the man’s clothes were smoking as he lugged him out of the car before tumbling down on the grass beside the road. Despite the heat from the flames Steve was cold to the touch and eerily still; when Danny jabbed his fingers on the Lt. Commander’s neck to search for a pulse he would come up empty. Usually he woke up from the dream at this point drenched in cold sweat, shaking badly and he gulped in large breaths of air to get rid of the taste of black smoke on his tongue. 

He needed confirmation that Steve was alive and frustration burned red hot when he was blocked every step of the way. The doctors had said that he would not be able to move from his bed until his injuries stabilized. At one stage they read off a list what exactly they were, and he vaguely took notice of the fact that he had shrapnel in his legs and a broken arm and leg but the thing he had to worry most about was the damage to his ACL. Until more extensive tests could be done they wouldn’t know the extent of the damage to it. His attending physician Dr Archer had warned that he might need to rely on a cane for the rest of his natural life but that was the least of his worries.

“Doctor, please.” Danny found himself begging emphatically, “I need to know…how is Steve, has he woken up?”

“I’m sorry Mr Williams,” the physician replied before heaving a sigh. “I am not his attending physician, but from what I hear-”

“Please,” Danny cut across, hating himself for being reduced to beg. “I’m not interested in what you’ve heard, I’m interested in just the facts. Now what do you know about Steven’s condition?”

“No, he hasn’t woken up. But from what I heard from Dr Freemont, who is _his_ attending physician,” the doctor had added that last bit in after a furious glare from his patient. “The Lt. Commander has not regained consciousness yet but preliminary x-rays reveal that there has been some trauma to his spine. We don’t know if there is any permanent damage yet.”

The doctor’s answer, while providing a perfunctory answer to his question left him with more questions than answers. When will Steve wake up? Given what he had heard, will things be the same again? How much have they changed? Danny hated not knowing; it was a core part of his personality that he had to know everything that he could about a situation. The fact that Steve was still in limbo seriously rankled and sunk him into a deep angry mood. At first the anger was directed outwards; he lashed against anyone and everyone who had come his way including Chin and Kono. But slowly the anger turned inwards when he realized that it was misguided and pointless. He could have a volcanic eruption but it would not help things because Steve would still be prostrated on that hospital bed, his condition unknown.

As the pristine sky in paradise gradually darkened, the bright blue melding into a mixture of dark navy and orange across the horizon, the anger diffused to be replaced with a despairing sense of hopelessness. It overtook his soul and more than once he found himself shutting his eyes, willing to believe that once he opened them that the sheets under him were not the standard issue white cotton, but the scratchy ones from his foldout sofa bed, that the cloying scent of antiseptic was the result of having cleaned his kitchen and the soft beeping of the monitors were sounds from a television show. Every time he reopened them, he would be faced with that white ceiling, and a small part of him would shrivel and die as reality came crashing down on his shoulders.

Chin and Kono came by almost everyday after work to give him updates on cases and current happenings inside the Palace. The Governor was extremely displeased at the collateral damage surrounding the car crash but more anxious about Steve’s condition but her wrath was mollified by the fact that they had caught Bobby Fontaine and closed down his syndicate operations on the island. The perp was slowly rotting in a holding cell in Oahu Prison as he waited for his trial. Danny took the news they had, confused as to his emotions. He was supposed to be happy that they had apprehended Fontaine but why wasn’t he? Justice had been served and he would be off to jail faster than one could say ‘breach of natural justice’ but he was left feeling miserable and anxious. His unhappiness clung around the room like a velvet curtain, and he was sure that Chin and Kono picked up on the vibe. They tried to make their words into a soothing balm by focusing on Rachel and Grace but if anything that compounded problems, because it reminded him exactly how far away his little girl was at the moment. He had spoken to her a few times on the phone and then to Rachel, who assured him that they would be on the first plane back to Oahu so that Grace could see her Danno.  

He also grabbed the sleeve of whoever had come by, asking desperately for any news of McGarrett. Each time though, he was politely yet firmly rebuffed with the standard answer that McGarrett had not woken up yet. Having had enough, he finally demanded to talk to the doctor overseeing Steve’s treatment, a Dr Freemont.

“You must be Commander McGarrett’s partner,” the doctor said knowingly as she paused by the table at the end of the bed. Seizing Danny’s medical file up, he began to peruse the file, his green eyes scanning down the page. Seemingly satisfied, she threw the chart back down before leveling her gaze on the bed-ridden detective. “I have to say, your tenacity is refreshing. A threatened subpoena to get me down here to talk?” She walked over to the lone chair by the bedside and sat down.

Danny’s arms itched to move and punctuate his words, but given that they were both set in heavy casts right now, it was not an option. He sighed before forcing himself to start in a markedly calm tone. “Doctor, I have been trying to get word on Steve’s condition for the past,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, which had a small date display. “Four days. No one is willing to tell me anything more about his current status. I am willing to do whatever it takes to find out if Steve is alright, and that includes using all powers at my disposal!”

Dr Freemont raised a hand to placate the injured detective. If anything her lack of response made the man shut up. “I understand. Your partner is seriously injured and you want to find out if he is going to be alright. Dr Archer mentioned that you had asked about the Lt. Commander.”

As quickly as it had come, the irritation at this woman disappeared to be replaced with a deep-seated tiredness. “Has he…has he woken up yet?” Danny asked in a timid voice. He swallowed thickly, anxious to hear her answer.

The ticking of the clock was offensively loud in the deathly silence of the room and the pause as Dr Freemont considered Danny’s question was interminably long. She looked down at the file in her hand pertaining to a Steven J. McGarrett. Quickly flipping the pages inside, she focused on the medical report stating the ex Navy SEAL’s condition. Broken bones…internal bleeding…several nasty gashes that had to be sutured immediately upon arrival and required IV broad-spectrum antibiotics to prevent infection…

The doctor wasn’t aware that the more she read the file, the further her lips pressed into a prim line. She might not have been aware, but Danny was. Leaning forward on the bed, his throat clicked as he swallowed before he broke the silence. “So Doc, is he…is he going to regain consciousness anytime soon?” He prompted, as he eyed her expectantly. 

She met the detective’s gaze. “No,” the physician admitted softly as she closed the file. “We don’t know when he is going to wake up.”

There was another pause as Danny absorbed this information. He was expecting them to have an answer; the fact that they didn’t have one really scared him. Given all the advances in diagnosis technology the unknown posed a greater fear and risk. It must have been bad if the doctors had no idea what was wrong with Steve. “Wh…why don’t you know?” He managed to keep the thread of anger out of his voice but it took a lot of effort. Unconsciously, his hands grabbed onto the sheets and twisted them into sweat soaked knots.

“Commander McGarrett suffered an intraparenchymal hemorrhage in the cerebellum part of his brain.” Dr Freemont sighed before she continued again in a different vein at Danny’s blank look, “He had a bleed in his brain after the accident you were both involved in. He had lapsed into a coma following substantial intracranial pressure from the increased blood surrounding the brain tissue, which we have managed by performing a craniotomy. He hasn’t awoken following the procedure.”

At her words Danny huffed an annoyed breath and threw the bed sheets back. He began to rip the small nodes from the monitors off his chest and his arms, finally sliding the blood pressure measurement cuff off his left arm. Gritting his teeth, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed onto the small table next to the bed.

“Detective Williams, what are you doing?” Dr Freemont asked as the machines began to beep rapidly. She made a move towards him to try and get him to remain on the bed but he pushed her away. Her eyes trailed to his heavily bandaged lower legs. The twin red spots in the bandages were slowly expanding. “Don’t do that! You shouldn’t move, you’ll cause more damage to yourself!”

Sweat dotted his brow as he groaned shakily, the movement causing a wave of dizziness and nausea as he tried to place pressure on his right leg gingerly. The tenderness was overwhelming as fresh pain stabbed at his knee – the same one with the previously torn ACL. Swallowing hard and steeling himself for worse, he was supremely dismayed when he felt gentle hands push him back down on the bed. The effort of sitting up greatly strained him and he closed his eyes as he took several large, deep breaths. He sank back into the pillows before he opened his eyes blearily to look at Freemont.

“I need to see Steve,” he finally ground out as he scrunched his eyes shut again. He tried to push against the gentle but firm hands that kept him in place on the bed. After a few more breaths he opened his clear blue eyes again to glare at the doctor. He growled as he felt the sticky press of the nodes for the monitors being reattached to his chest and the blood pressure cuff being slid around his left bicep again. He struggled weakly against the doctor as she firmly tightened the cuff. “I have to see Steve, right now!" 

“Please calm down! You’ll tear the stitches in your legs!” Her eyes widened as the monitors began to race. It was obvious that the detective was greatly disturbed and upset at the moment at having his request to see Steve refused.

It wasn’t that she was refusing because of a mean character. The fact was they had removed an extensive amount of shrapnel and had managed to stitch the area together again. He was expected to remain immobile until the stitches could be removed, because any pressure on them might cause them to split and bleed. They had managed to suture the artery in his leg after they removed the shrapnel but given his precarious condition it was better to not take any chances.  Dr Freemont grimaced as she caught sight of the rapidly expanding red spot particularly on Danny’s lower left leg. Reaching out for the panic button on the side of his bed, she pressed it briefly.

“Stitches can be re-sewn again!” Danny roared as he made another attempt to push the doctor aside. He growled again in frustration as he got tangled in the wires. From the far corner of the room he could hear the glass door sliding shut before a nurse raced into the room. “I need to see McGarrett right now!”

Quickly catching sight of the uncooperative patient, Nurse Keoki glanced at the doctor who barked. “Get me 0.1ccs of diazepam stat!” The nurse nodded her head in understanding before she quickly dashed out of the room again. 

“No! No drugs! I don’t want any drugs…only want to see Steve…” Danny moaned as he struggled. However with each passing moment his protests got feebler and feebler until they died out, before he flung his head to the side as he pulled in large breaths. He was tired, washed out and all he wanted was to see Steve! Tears trickled down his face as memories of seeing Steve’s soot covered face amongst the flames and orange smoke surfaced again. The memory was so palpable that he could feel the dead weight of his partner as he tumbled to the ground, the stench of fresh earth filling his nostrils. Choking back a long repressed sob, he turned to bury his head in the side of the pillow as he scrunched his eyes tighter in a feeble attempt to ward off the memories.  “Steve…” he mumbled, half muffled by the pillow as he began to sob quietly.

Finally satisfied that the patient was not going to resume his struggling, Dr Freemont let go and used this opportunity to slide the O2 monitor around Danny’s finger. She cast a glance at the monitor again and was alarmed at how high his blood pressure was. He was clearly upset, and needed rest. At the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps the physician turned around to see the nurse come back with the requisitioned drugs. Heaving a sigh, she grabbed the medication off the nurse before breaking the seal of the packaging and taking the cap off the needle.

“Now I will be giving you something to calm you down a bit, Mr Williams,” the physician said as she sought out the IV line. Carefully inserting the needle into the IV line, she quickly depressed the plunger and stood back to observe the monitors for a few moments. The detective was extremely upset and she hoped that the sedative would help him get some much-needed rest. Moving forward, she laid a hand gently on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you will be able to see your partner when you wake up.” Turning towards the door, she nodded briefly at the nurse before the two women left the room, leaving the detective to the turbulence of his thoughts and memories.

 

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

 

The dark haired patient’s heart monitors began to flat line as the alarm at the nurse’s station went off. Three nurses and a doctor came rushing to the room before the door was slid violently to the side as they barged collectively into the room.

“We’ve got acute tachycardia!” the doctor bellowed before he pulled the patient’s robe apart and ripped the sensors off the man’s chest. “Get a crash cart in here!” He ordered to the nurse standing next to him. With a quick nod, she scurried out of the room to get the requested item, praying that they would be able to help that Handsome Lt. Commander of the Five-0 task force. 


	3. Chapter 3

The combination of forced bed rest and the powerful pain medication made the days bleed into each other – his mood grew darker the longer he was there in the hospital and given the severity of his injuries he was going to be there for a while. His earlier attempt to get up out of the bed had done more damage to his torn ACL and torn some of the stitches from his leg, causing him to almost bleed out but for the quick actions of Dr Freemont to close the wound up again.

Despite the fact that the cuts had scabbed over and the bones were slowly mending themselves, the psychological damage following the accident was much harder to pinpoint. The once energetic and vibrant detective was withdrawn, barely speaking a word to anyone following the outburst with Dr Freemont several days ago. He knew that the doctors were doing the best they could in difficult circumstances, but that didn’t make things any easier. He wanted to know if Steve was going to be okay, if the man was ever going to wake up again and the fact that they had no idea just how perilous Steve’s condition was really scared him, plunging him a further darker mood.

Chin and Kono came and went with every spare moment, the cousins taking turns to sit with Danny. When they came he would close his eyes and pretend to be asleep – seeing them was too painful a reminder of the fact that Steve was conspicuously missing. Deep down he knew that rain, hail or shine, it didn’t matter if he had something as harmless as a paper cut, the ex-Navy SEAL would come charging in as if the hounds of hell were right behind him and demand to take him to hospital or worse - attempt to administer some sort of first aid. It didn’t matter what it was, Steve was always going to be there when Danny woke up from hospital, just like how he was after the sarin gas incident. The fact that he wasn’t here meant that the dark haired man was either dead or seriously injured to the point he was unable to help himself. He couldn’t stand to look at them and it cleaved at his heart every time he saw them because he would be strongly reminded of Steve. He was thankful that being two men down meant that Chin and Kono had a lot to deal with at the moment, thus their visits were short and sparse.

When they came he often closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone. If the cousins had cottoned on to the fact that he was trying to avoid them, they never showed it, instead they continued to come and see him, taking turns to just talk at him. It was mostly one sided because despite the melodic hum of their voices it was not enough to drown out the white noise that buzzed in his head nor was the sight of them enough to distract him from the blaze of orange now permanently burned behind his eyelids. On some days he could still taste the acrid black smoke on his tongue.

It would have been easy to blame this deep-seated malaise on the pain medication but Danny had been in hospital often enough to be cognizant of the fact that the pain medication had no effect on his mood. It might have subdued him but it did not alter his core personality. Things must have been extremely bad if Steve hadn’t woken up yet. He didn’t know exactly how long he had been here but the nurses’ answers raised more questions than answers. What was Steve’s condition? When was he going to wake up?

The longer he stayed in hospital, the more unlikely it was that Steve was going to emerge from this ordeal unscathed. Danny didn’t know much about medicine but he did know that anything to do with the brain was deadly serious. The fact that Steve had suffered some sort of brain bleed that he was yet to wake up from meant that its effects were unknown. A few of the nurses had obliged his curiosity while they checked his vitals or changed his dressings. He now knew that bleeds in the brain could occur in various parts and thus have different consequences, ranging from blindness to paralysis that could be anything from short term to permanent. Their answers were clipped and once their work was done the nurses would leave, leaving him in the gloom of the silence. On some days the silence was deafening and but for the blips and beeps of the monitors he felt he would go insane from inaction – his feet longed to feel the familiar beat of the pavement beneath them.

Most urgently, he wanted to jump out of this bed and go to find Steve. He wanted to see for himself how badly his partner was hurt. Pictures were worth a thousand words and he knew that this would help to put him at ease. The fact that his daily requests for a status update and a trip to see Steve were ignored heightened his concern because the Lt Commander’s condition must have been critical if he still hadn’t woke up this far along. That meant he was back to the unknown.  He turned his head and looked out the window, past the tops of the palm trees to the magnificent azure blue of the clear sky outside. There was not a single cloud to be seen and he found himself hating the overwhelming cheerfulness outside. A fresh wave of anguish broke over him and he bit hard on his bottom lip as he blinked furiously a few times to get rid of the stinging sensation. The sky had been precisely that blue on the very afternoon of the accident and Steve had been wearing a shirt the very same color.

_“McGarrett, just what are you trying to do here, huh?” Danny asked as the two men strolled towards the Camaro. They were taking things slow as his ACL was playing up again, so much so that he was seriously contemplating getting out his cane and using it._

_The taller man automatically headed for the driver’s side before he pulled the door open and slid inside. He stuffed the keys into the ignition and turned the A/C on before he turned to the side to see pulling his seatbelt across, securing it with a firm click. Steve sighed the sigh of the condemned before asking, “What, what could it possibly be now, Danno?”_

_“Quit it with the Danno thing already!” Danny replied hotly before he crossed his arms. “Only Gracie gets to call me that and unless I’m very much mistaken you, Captain America, are not Gracie.”_

_“No, that I’m not. Neither am I going to stop it with the ‘Book ‘Em, Danno.’” It was meant to be a joke but something in his recalcitrant partner’s voice caused him to snap his clear blue gaze to stare into Steve’s face. The tall dark haired man twisted his head to look at the ex Jersey native in the eye, his face arranged in an inscrutable expression Danny had never seen before._

_The way McGarrett was looking at him now was strangely intense. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and suddenly he licked his lips, realizing that they were too dry and that his heart was racing. Danny remembered having a temporary moment of lapse of insanity, of telling this madman to which he was platonically married that he liked it, and that he should do it everyday. That it was a term of endearment and that he didn’t mind it, not so much. Between getting shot and beaten and falling sick to bizarre viruses – the anthrax thing still annoyed him occasionally – but ‘Danno’ was something he could tolerate. It was the least of all evils._

_He wanted to say something, knew he had to say something but the moment was broken when the police radio in his car flared to life. HPD surveillance reported that Fontaine had just been spotted leaving his lavish mansion at Kahala._

_The moment broken, the detective yelled, “Seatbelt, McGarrett!” as he was flung back into his seat when Steve shifted the car into gear and reversed out of the space and skidded to a halt before entering the main street and they cruised down the highway, heading towards the location HPD had last spotted the fugitive heading towards. It was obvious that the perp knew the game was up by the sudden flight – much to McGarrett’s ire, the District Attorney had cut a deal with Fontaine’s top enforcer in exchange for a reduction in his sentence for three murders and countless charges of aggravated assault._

_Danno didn’t have another opportunity nor the time to contemplate what Steve was about to say or what he was going to do as they caught sight of the fugitive. The siren was switched on before Steve let go of his sanity as Danny whispered a little prayer that they were going to survive this. McGarrett was driving like a lunatic and a weight as heavy as lead settled in the blonde man’s stomach as an ill sense of foreboding washed over him._

A single tear trickled down his face, falling to hit his hand that was cramping, scrunched into a fist so tight that it would have hurt but for the extensive range of painkillers that were flooding his system. The painkillers had numbed the physical pain but they did nothing to ease the psychological demons that were plaguing his thoughts, dragging him into a darker mood with each passing day. If he had known that that afternoon was going to be the last time he ever saw McGarrett…

It was all lost and there was nobody left to pick up the pieces.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The physician shook her head as she stared at the results of the CAT scan of her patient’s head. The bright dot on the scan had her extremely worried. Despite their best efforts he was certain that everything that they had done would not be enough to salvage what they could. Surgery had managed to stop most of the bleeding but McGarrett had gone into acute tachycardia which triggered the ruptured blood vessel in his brain to burst again. The Lt Commander had been rushed back into surgery almost immediately and the vessel had been repaired.

Thankfully the bleed had occurred in an area of the brain away from the part that controlled personality. The bad news was that the bleed had occurred in an area which controlled gross motor function. Dr Freemont had seen enough of these cases to know that Steve was very lucky if he was able going to walk again. Things were compounded by the fact that she did not know if the four minutes that her patient had flat lined before they could re-establish his heartbeat had caused further significant brain damage as well.

Sighing, she placed the scan back down on her desk before exiting the small office. Quickly making her way towards the intensive care unit, Dr Freemont headed in a tangent towards McGarrett’s bed. She picked up the file located on the table at the foot of the bed to study the nurse’s hourly notes. Since the morning, there had been no further improvement or deterioration in her patient’s condition. Given that the Navy SEAL had defied the odds by remaining alive so far, there was hope that one day, hopefully soon, he was going to open his eyes.

“You have a very anxious partner awaiting your return,” she whispered softly as she gazed into the face half obscured by the oxygen mask, the small sliver of skin visible the fresh pink of newly healed skin. “I’ve done my best to get you back together into one piece – the rest is up to you.”


End file.
